


celebration

by peachyteabuck



Category: The Bronze (2015)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Sexual Roleplay, cheerleader roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 03:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19220392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: you apologize to lance for missing an important competition by indulging in one of his favorite fantasies





	celebration

**Author's Note:**

> this is a super old wip when i was in a huge sebstan character phase. enjoy!

You can’t tell why you’re freaking out so badly; you’ve been planning this for weeks, every detail meticulously thought out.

You had your friend tailor the waist and bust to accommodate the weight you had gained after college (who knew that when you stopped going to rigorous three-hours a day practices, five days a week, you would go up half a bra size and increase your waistline by two inches). You made certain the tight top hugged you in all the right places and left  _just_  enough midriff to tease; you ensured the skirt covered just enough ass to cover  _just_  below your ass.  

The poms and bows had been unearthed from your mother’s antique-filled basement, white high-top sneakers purchased last week along with a pair of matching socks with cute little frills along the top.

You’d even gone through the grueling process of choosing what underwear you’d don. Should you go for something sexy and sweet (lace)? Or simple and innocent (cotton)? No matter the fabric, what color? Or did fabric influence color? Should you do something similar to the black and forest green of your uniform, or play it safe and wear a color you know Lance loves? Would Lance even mind if the color of the panties he was  _definitely_  going to be ripping off didn’t match the rest of your outfit?

After three episodes of  _Great British Bake Off_ -worth of heavy contemplation, you ended up choosing a cotton, baby pink pair Lance has never seen. They’re cute, but not  _too_  cute. They’re sexy, but not  _too_  sexy. It’s the perfect balance of eroticism and innocence. Also -  they show the cute little patch of slick that forms when you’re ready to get absolutely  _railed_.

Regardless of all your preparation, you’re nervous.  _Very_ nervous. Your heart beats against your ribs and your hands shake. Each breath  _in_  is sharp, each one  _out_  is shaky. Every few moments you look yourself up and down once more, readjusting the bow or retying your shoes or contemplating fixing your eyeliner or smoothing down the acrylic fabric of your skirt. The latter seems to be the least helpful, as the plastic doesn’t do much to absorb the sweat that’s collected on your shaky palms.

The only thing that distracts you is the familiar  _bing!_  from your phone. Lance’s name flashes across the screen, right above his message.

_be there in 15_

Another, a few seconds later.

_just leaving the gym_

Exactly seventeen minutes and forty-five seconds later, you can hear his car pulling into the driveway. You can see him walking up the pristine, white cement walkway from your bedroom window, pulling back just enough that he can’t see you.

Leaning against the wall, you try and slow your breathing as you hear your boyfriend unlocking the front door.

“Babe!” He calls once it opens, dropping his heavy gym bag on the ground with a loud  _thump!_ before placing his keys in the small bowl just inside the threshold.

Slowly, carefully, you place yourself at the top of the stairs. “Yes Coach?”

Lance doesn’t look up for a few seconds, looking for his phone or wallet or something else in his pockets. The seconds are tense, your heart racing at a rabbit’s pace as you wait for his eyes to meet yours. When he does, time seems to freeze as his brain processes the scene in front of him. As Lance’s breaths get deeper and slower, you can see the insatiable lust you’ve come to know and love push him into delirium.

His mumbles slack-jawed with watery eyes, “God, baby, you- “

All you can do is chew the inside of your cheek, twirling a strand from your ponytail around your fingers and biting your lower lip. “Do you like it?”

In an instant, Lance has you thrown over his shoulder as he carries you to your shared bedroom. There, he throws you onto the bed, which remains unmade from when he left earlier that morning.

As he pulls back, eyes ablaze and jaw tense, he laughs darkly. “Oh  _darling,_ ” he muses, tone almost animalistic.” What should I do with you? Should I take  _this_ ,” he leans to rub the material of the neckline between his middle finger and thumb. “Off?”

Lance reaches under your skirt to run his fingers over your panties. As he feels the wetness already pooling between your legs, soaking the cotton there, he moans. “Such a dirty girl, aren’t we? Bet you want me to fuck you right here in this uniform, don’t you?”

Heat floods your body, replacing all nervousness in your veins. “Whatever you want, Coach.”

That, that name again, it stops him, and you can see him tensing the muscles in his arms. In a moment fueled by adrenaline and an insatiable hunger for the man you love, you get up on your knees to paw at the tent in his gym shorts. You kiss around it before stopping just above the waistband. “Whatever you want.”

A beat passes before Lance becomes animalistic, growling at your hips and picking you up to slam you against the mattress. He still hasn’t spoken, your actions rendering him speechless.

“Do you like it, Daddy?” you ask, eyes wide to feign innocence.

A husky laugh escape Lance, interrupting the kisses he was leaving up and down your neck. “Call me Coach, darling.”              

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Do you like it, Coach?”

Lance laughs in a voice you’ve never heard come from him before, one hand moving under your skirt as you lock eyes. “Fuck yeah I do.”

His fingers push the soft fabric aside and run them up and down your dripping slit. The two of you moan in unison as he sinks into your wet heat, your walls clutching onto him. Lance’s movements are fervent, fingers quickly finding that special spot inside of you. “God, you’re such a good girl, such a good slut for me - getting so fuckin’ wet like this. You thinking about me pounding that pussy? Fuckin’ love the way you feel around just my fingers,” You release a high-pitched whine as his thumb rubs over your swollen, desperate nub. “Oh, baby, you want your Coach’s cock inside of you? Want me to fuck you until you can’t fuckin’ walk? Or should I taste you, with my tongue on your clit and you spread out all cute as I lick at you until you can’t stand it anymore?”

“All of it!” You scream, frantic for more than just his fingers. “Fuck me until I can’t even talk, Coach,  _please!”_

Lance bites down on your neck as he adds a third finger, still rubbing at your clit. You cum quickly and loudly, deep sounds dirty and downright pornographic. In the hazy pleasure that floods your senses, you don’t notice him freeing his aching cock from his annoyingly-red work attire, and the feeling of him pushing into you forces your eyes to the back of your head and a new, even lewder noise leaves your throat.

Your hands try to find purchase on the cool, white sheets before latching onto Lance’s back, your baby pink nails leaving blistering, deep red lines down his toned back. With each thrust your boyfriend becomes that much more eager, than much more restless for release – and as he bottoms out his perfect teeth bite into the collarbone not covered by the uncomfortable fabric of your top.

“Beg me to cum,” he hisses. “Tell your Coach how bad you want to come.”

“Oh,  _fuck_ , Coach!” you scream. “Oh my god, please let me come!  _Please_  make me cum, oh my God I need it  _please_  Coach I need it!”  
Lance moves a hand down your sternum and rubs at your clit with the pad of his thumb. It seems he can’t speak anymore, too focused on watching his cock move in and out of you with the skirt bunched up at your hips. Another orgasm, one that nearly blinds you as you lithe on your shared bed, rips through you while Lance continues to fuck himself in and out of you to chase his own.

His teeth gnash as he comes, a low groan coming from deep within his chest. The pleasure that floods his veins is all-consuming – so much so that it takes all of his will-power to not collapse right there and then, leaving the mess he made of you to your own devices.

Somehow, somewhere, he finds it in himself to pull out of you – an action that makes you both groan at the loss of contact. He makes it about three feet before you’re reaching for him to come back to bed, you know he’ll change the sheets tomorrow anyone.

“I love you so much,” Lance whispers into your shoulder – still clothed in your uniform. You giggle as you run your hands through his soft, sweaty hair.

“I told you!” You scold. “I told you I’d make it up to you for not being able to go Nationals with you.”

Lance kisses your collarbone, his wet hot tongue trailing over the bruises he’s left there. “I mean,  _yeah_  but I didn’t think it’d be  _this_.”

You smack him lightly as you snort. “Psh, like I’m gonna forget your number one fantasy.”

Your lover doesn’t respond, instead kissing where the opening you didn’t realize he’d torn in your top exposes your breasts.

“Ready you round two?” You gasp out when you feel his fingers dip into you once more.

“Oh,  _Hell_  yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> one more week and i officially completed an entire month of having weekly fics. i may attempt this into july, but since i'll be working it's unlikely. we shall see, tho!!  
> as always, feel free to drop me a line on my tumblr, peachyteabuck.


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